


A Tale Full of Prejudices

by LilacTree_928



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Business Major Hendery, Johnny is the type of professor you'd wish to avoid in college, Lit Major Xiaojun, M/M, Overprotective Yangyang, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-27 15:01:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacTree_928/pseuds/LilacTree_928
Summary: A series of misunderstandings, stress, and nonsense caused by that darn Johnny Suh.#W286: "A Xiaodery university AU where Business Management major Hendery takes up a Creative Writing elective for kicks but gets his ass handed to him by uptight Literature major Xiaojun."





	A Tale Full of Prejudices

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompter, I really had a fun time writing this! I could've done better but I hope you like this! :(
> 
> This is also messy as hell. :(

“That’s…. interesting.” Yangyang, his best friend and roommate, paused and did a double take at his new schedule for the new semester. He merely smiled and shrugged before continuing on munching some crackers he found in the bottom of their refrigerator. “Ge, how on earth is Creative Writing helpful for Financial Management?” Now free of his bag, he plopped beside Kunhang and took some of the crackers the elder was eating. Kunhang just grunted and pulled at remote from beneath their couch and turned on the television. “How did you end up choosing CW anyway? I know that electives are mandatory but you could have chosen something like Calculus? I don’t know? Or maybe Accounting, at least those could give you knowledge that you can _actually _use.”

The elder looked at the younger passively as he took another bite of his cracker. “Yang, do I look like an engineering student? Where the fuck would I use Calculus?” Yangyang rolled his eyes at his ignorant roommate. “You need it to earn your Masters.” Kunhang paused briefly but then shrugged once more. “I’ll worry about it when the time comes and the Accountancy Professor is infamous for being ruthless, so throw that option down the drain.” Shifting on his seat, he gave a glance at the younger. “Creative Writing seems fun plus it’s merely an elective anyways, a filler subject, just to pass time, what could possibly go wrong?”

Yangyang frowned at that but doesn’t have the heart to scold an older person so he merely settled with a gentle warning. “You might offend somebody with that offhanded remark of yours.”

Pushing up his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, Dejun squinted his eyes and silently glared at the nonsensical buzzing which filled the classroom. Don’t get him wrong, it’s not the noise he’s annoyed of as he and his friends can be quite raucous and loud especially when discussing about their favorite writers, favorite literary eras, as well as favorite literary pieces, no, it’s more than that. It’s the fact that the sound pollution is not consisted of Edgar Allan Poe’s tragic love story, Charles Dickens’ traumatic experience which left him scarred for life, heck, it’ll even be alright if the chattering is consisted of different types of paints, canvases, shading, just plain old history, he’ll even sit in and listen attentively because they are fellow humanities student. ‘_This is outrageous._’

Seemingly aware of the dark miasma seeping from his body, Mark, a fellow English Literature major who runs the Book and Writing Club with him, nudged him good-naturedly. “Take it easy, the kids might melt into posh with how hard you’re glaring at them.” Dejun glared at his friend but settled on his seat instead. “There’re too many _strays _this semester.” He remarked grimly, already feeling the stress he will have to endure to pass this semester.

Dejun doesn’t really care much about who he’s studying with as long as they’re quiet and responsible. Among of the groups of students he’s actually fond of are Fine Arts majors and History majors. They’re really just a bunch of sweethearts who takes up some literary electives to either broaden their perspective (the FA majors) or parallel historical events and witness firsthand how it affected all aspects of human activity. Among those whom he is not exactly fond of encountering are the Business majors.

Oh good gracious, even their seniors are quite sensitive at the prospect of being in a class with Business majors, especially if it comes to group works. Those subjects which other majors consider as ‘_mere_’ electives are the life and blood of his department, so imagine the pain of working with a careless Business majors who doesn’t really give any fuck about doing the tasks assigned right because by the end of the day, they’ll pass anyway and failing those electives won’t mean anything apart from being an eyesore in their transcripts. At least the law students in their stenography classes are intellectuals plus the psychology majors are total darlings who just wishes to let off steam by taking extra electives but still put their hearts to it. At least Yukhei, a member of the Book Club whom he managed to recruit from one of their shared classes last year, is.

And Dejun knows that Creative Writing is bleedingly full of those _strays_. Strays as in non-humanities kids who thinks that Literature subjects are some kind of easy pass. “Take it easy man, we can’t really control the majors of students entering our classes, even our professors have no say in this.” Mark tried consoling him but the both of them know it wouldn’t really placate his friend seeing him getting even more irritated as a particular boy burst out laughing with his companion harshly slapping him on the arm to shut him up. “You know what? Let’s hang out on the clubroom after class. Let’s have Renjun buy us some cheesecake while we relax over some audiobooks.” Mark proposed which made Dejun smile a little. At least he has something to look forward.

Finally, the class settled – even the strays quieted down – upon the appearance of their professor. Dejun and Mark looked at each other before collectively groaning with the rest of the class who are Literature majors as well. Their professor is Johnny Suh, an infamous cheeky bastard known for having the brightest of smiles but with the darkest of amusement after he managed to fail many of their seniors after acting like a cool and chill guy. Dejun can already feel a dark cloud cast over him as he witnesses his future self under torment with the announcement of their final requirement and it being a pair project.

“I just wish that I at least get a humanities student. Even a highly eccentric Fine Arts student would suffice; at least I can get a lot of inspiration and material.” Dejun can hear Mark utter under his breath as their Professor started announcing the pairs as soon as he entered like it was nobody’s business. He agrees.

Mark, after a long while of praying to all types of deities from all known religion, managed to land with a History student and Dejun was extremely jealous seeing the face-splitting grin Mark is sporting as well as the screws turning around his head, already thinking of possible storyline despite not having any concrete directions yet. He’s not as fortunate as his friend though as he landed with the obnoxious guy from earlier who was laughing his lungs out before Professor Suh came in. He can already feel his cortisol levels skyrocket and he can already envision the countless nights he will endure in the upcoming semester.

Johnny Suh clapped his hands as he ended announcing the pairings and proceeded on discussing the rubrics of their final requirement and the composition of their grade. “In lieu of the humongous amount of complaints I have received from my previous classes last semester, I decided to be kinder to you guys.” The relatively young man smiled at his class who were on the edge of their seats. Mark and Dejun squinted their eyes and exchanged glances. They know that the man is absolutely up to no good.

“So instead of relying on class standings, you only need to pass two outputs in the finals. Create a story which will incorporate both your and your partner’s personalities or lives and then create a poetics which explains the story, how you came up with it, how much of yourselves are in it, and the meanings you align with your work especially for those of you who plans on doing an introspective work.” The professor looked up from his notes as his smile turned wicked. Dejun gulped. “Those two are the only compositions of your grades. So it’s either you ace this subject or flunk it.” Everyone in the class went absolutely still that it can be contested that nobody breathed for at least ten seconds.

“So that’s it, I hope you all have a great day and use our remaining time to brainstorm ideas with your partners. See you on finals children!”

The class erupted into chatters the moment Suh exited the room but Dejun remained on his seat, trying hard to process the impending tragedy if it hasn’t begun yet. He threw a stink eye towards his friends who was squirming in his seat before springing up and launching himself onto the poor History major who merely offered a daunted smile before scooting to the side gently as Mark erupted into dialogues and plotlines as soon as he, only him, settled. The poor guy coughed nervously but despite the discomfort, Dejun can see that his friend’s insensitive antics are amusing the other. A smile crept on his lips thinking that a certain someone will not only leave the course with a beautiful A+ but with a beautiful lover as well.

“At least I confirmed that you’re not one of those stereotyped ‘_Ice Prince_’ everyone who reads gushes about.” He was interrupted out of his stupor by the presence of the unwanted burden he’s forced to carry for the whole semester. Oh how he wish he could drop the subject this semester and take it later on but he can’t.

“You’re really hell-bent on ignoring me huh?” He was made aware that he did not responded to whatever idiocy his partner remarked earlier. Well, he has no intention to. Shooting a sharp glare, he took a paper and a pen as he put on his ‘professional’ persona. “Okay, what ideas do you have in mind regarding this?” He folded the paper crosswise before opening it again and turning his eyes on his partner who was staring blankly at him.

Oh boy, Dejun can feel his blood pressure rising already. This is going to be a tough semester.

Everyone raised their heads hesitantly as the sound of the shredder, once again, had cut through the silent library. Usually, the library is full of bustling and hustling as the librarian is fine with it, what with the noise is usually caused by the enthusiastic bright-eyed Writing Club members who conducts writing workshops while the Book Club members sink their heads onto the books that they currently took interest in. It is both a joy and amusement for the librarian who, otherwise, would be faced with a dusty and empty library.

That was until Dejun begrudgingly led a _naïve _Business Administration student with a wide smile and an empty expression inside, dark miasma surrounding him with an apologetic Mark and Yukhei in tow, obviously careful around him. It turns out that Dejun coerced the poor fella into attending his writing workshops for their final output in Creative Writing.

At first, everyone was ecstatic since it wasn’t that common for them to receive newcomers in the middle of the school year. It also wasn’t very common for the President to bring in new recruits, mostly because he’ll be too busy processing the applications, due to his principles and disdain to be seen as having favoritism to particular members. Apart from Mark, everybody joined either clubs on their own accord.

The delight was soon replaced with unsettlement as their usual peace was now replaced with constant bickering. That unsettlement then turned into sympathy and apathy as they can exactly see why Dejun is treating Kunhang. Apathy because they understand how high their President’s standards are and sympathy because they also understand that with Kunhang belonging to the College of Business Management, there’s no way for him to hone his writing skills especially in aspects that are outside their field of expertise.

The peaceful and quiet workshops held by the Executive Committee of the Writing Club and the University Librarian turned into a show which eventually gathered new members just for the drama. It merely infuriated Dejun even more and he would constantly lash out on his Creative Writing partner by snarky remarks and shredding of his pieces. It was always almost raining with white colored confetti. If Dejun weren’t infamous enough before, after word spread out about him “bullying” the new boy, then he certainly is now.

Qian Kun, the kind librarian, understands the hostility Dejun is showcasing towards the poor boy though. He understood that it is not easy being a Literature major. Most of the time, non-sciences and non-business majors are looked down upon both in the academia and in the industries. Whilst the former was aiming for the path for revolutions, the latter was trekking for the path for power and wealth and theirs, ultimately, despite numerous success, won’t give them either.

It is actually very admirable that despite the stigma, Dejun single-handedly pushed for the financial growth of both the Book and Writing Clubs. Originally perceived as ‘_sleeping_’ clubs for the bored and sleepy, the then-Sophomore Dejun snatched the head Executive Committee position and smashed the two clubs to the ground before rebuilding it into its current glory. He managed to snag ample funds to conduct Writing Workshops, Literary Analysis Workshops, as well as Annual In-Campus Competitions which, surprisingly, manage to gather participants from all branches of the University. He also managed to send members to various Out-Campus Competitions where they would snag impressive awards. All that in a year of his administration. It was not really a surprise that he managed to be re-elected despite his wishes not to.

Kun, being the adviser of the two clubs, saw the hardships that the child went through so he understands Dejun’s hostility towards insensitive students who takes Literature and Arts subjects thinking that those are easy passes. Considering his position, he can’t really lash out mindlessly, so having Kunhang here is almost like an automatic scapegoating charade. Dejun’s behavior is extremely immature and selfish but they can understand where he’s coming from. Kunhang really is just unfortunate to become the object of his anger.

Kun and everyone else can see that the Business Ad major is trying his best, considering the actual time he has to practice a craft that’s not important for his major, his inputs are above average, what with the extreme frequency that Dejun forces him to attend the workshops and seminars. Considering his current level, it is undeniable that their final output will be fantastic. Dejun is just being subjective and prejudiced against the other to actually see Kunhang’s efforts.

Kun sighed once more as the low scolding of Dejun cut through the thick air of the library.

Yangyang shook his head as he bypassed his obviously forlorn friend who’s clutching shredded pieces of papers in his hands near his chest. Settling on the couch, he took a spoonful of his cereals and raised an eyebrow at Kunhang’s distraught disposition hunched over the dining table. “Another shredded piece again?” He called over his shoulders as the re-run of his weekly drama played on the TV. A pathetic hum resonated back. It should have evoked some sort of sympathy but Yangyang felt none and merely hummed back in response as his attention was fixated on the drama.

In Yangyang’s defense, he did felt sympathy. At least for the first twenty times that Kunhang came home clutching his shredded pieces with tears in his eyes. One’s bound to be desensitized when it happens as frequently as three times a week. “I just can’t seem to get his approval no matter what I do.” There it is, the constant self-chastising event Kunhang will drown himself into.

“Then why do you keep on coming back to his workshop?” Yangyang turned around, deciding that watching the drama will be pointless considering his friend’s current disposition. Kunhang sighed but remained mum as he kept his gaze downcast. Yangyang decided to further prod, hoping for some answers. “I thought it was ‘_merely an elective subject, a filler to pass time_,’ If I may be so kind to quote you, so what’s keeping you there when we know that Dejun will merely insult you and shred your pieces?”

Yangyang has met the infamous President of the Book and Writing Clubs. Albeit short in stature and quiet by nature, it is undeniable that the man is oozing with authority and confidence. The man doesn’t seem to be unreasonable. Well that is for everyone that is not Kunhang. The strict Lit major just can’t seem to stand even the mere thought of his friend. It is both bizarre and outrageous but he can’t really do much since his friend is adamant on reaching the sky-high standards that Dejun had imposed. It’s irrational.

“I am actually starting to enjoy writing. Also, seeing Dejun work so hard, I feel guilty slacking off when our final grades are dependent on a single work. This is merely an elective for me but this is one of their major subjects and our professor, despite his lax façade, is known to be quite cruel in giving grades. He’s running for Latin honors; I can’t be unfair and cause him to lose that.” Kunhang blew his overgrown hair out of his eyes. His eyes are tired and droopy, his eyebags are almost encompassing half of his face, and although his black hair looks as luscious as ever, it can’t be denied that the fatigue is getting to him what with how limp his locks are. Yangyang looked passive.

By the end of the day, the younger knows that despite acting uncaring and obnoxious, Kunhang is just too kind for his own good. Seeing his friend’s effort, he just doesn’t understand where the uptight Lit major is coming from with his hostility. It’s obvious that despite his carefree attitude, Kunhang is actually keen on details, which, as he read from the elder’s works, is reflected in his writing.

“Don’t you think that you’re being too unfair to yourself though? Our departmental exams are already next week, yet here you are, obsessed with an elective you chose just for the sake of it. Dude, thank goodness for your genius or you would be failing your major subjects otherwise. However, if you don’t get your shit together, you would be failing your Business Law; old Wang is not amused with you drowsing with his subjects every single meeting.” Yangyang has had enough. He kept quiet for too long already, thinking that his friend can and will handle it but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Taking his bowl, he turned off the tv and sat beside his friend, his expression stern but concerned.

“I know, I know, I’ll just pull all-nighters-” “And you think that will solve this? You’re deteriorating, Kunhang. A little tug at your limits and you’re going to end up lying flat on the ground, unconscious.” Yangyang was glaring outwardly at his friend at this point, chest slightly heaving with anger and frustration but Kunhang doesn’t seem to mind, opting to nod absent-mindedly. The younger of the two knows it’s useless so he harshly grabbed his bowl and threw it on the sink haphazardly; the clutter did not even emit even the slightest of flinch from the elder, Yangyang is furious.

He has to talk to his friend’s Creative Writing partner or else the hardworking bastard will really end up somewhere near the morgue.

Dejun did not bother to raise his eyes from the book that he’s currently reading and it merely aggravated the visitor more. Mark shifted his eyes as he laughed nervously from the sidelines. Kunhang’s friend and roommate, Liu Yangyang, asked, rather unkindly, for Dejun’s audience to discuss about the latter’s _impolite_ behavior towards the Business major. However, Dejun being Dejun, he had his uncaring _façade _up again and Mark nor Yukhei can do anything about that except offer strained smiles towards the aggravated visitor.

Kun looks from his booth and tilted his head, as if asking, when he caught Yukhei’s eyes. Yukhei merely shook his head in resignation and they both know that Dejun’s too stubborn to actually budge from his readings.

Yangyang, knowing that it’s pointless, huffed and closed his eyes momentarily. Opening them, he offered a glare. “It’s very disappointing how a person with your power is being this _fucking _stubborn. I understand that my friend is not the best at your subject and seems to be a burden, but he’s not-” He was cut off by a low sentence that was too sharp he almost could not contain his fists close to his body.

“So you are aware that he’s a burden.” Dejun shut the book he’s reading before placing it gingerly on the table. Mark and Yukhei exchanged glances as everyone froze as the chilling words were uttered. Everyone in the club and workshops knows that the Business major might not be the best but he’s nowhere near being a burden. He is definitely not the best but it is evident that he’s above average what with all his efforts.

Yangyang can’t take it anymore and he took the book in front of Dejun before throwing it harshly at the latter, eyes red and his veins popping in anger. Mark and Yukhei stood up to hold him back. “If something happened to Kunhang because of fatigue, I swear you’ll regret entering the gates of this university.” And he was off.

The whole library was silent throughout the whole ordeal and even after Yangyang stormed out, raging red, nobody let out even the tiniest of breath. Dejun clutched his left prefrontal where the book managed to land and rubbed it a few times with a slight pout on his face. Mark and Yukhei knew that the nonchalant façade from earlier has faded. Sitting back down, Yukhei looked at their friend sternly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Was it really necessary to provoke the poor bloke like that? He was just concerned with his friend and anybody with a good sense of vision can see that Kunhang’s anything but a burden. You’re lucky he merely threw a book at you for Liu Yangyang is a known Taekwondo athlete; he could knock you out with a mere flick.” Yukhei was fuming whereas Mark looked at Dejun with disappointment clear in his eyes as he tried to soothe the now flaming Yukhei.

Dejun shrugged before giving his head one last rub. “Stop overexaggerating, I doubt he could knock me out with a single flick; I doubt anyone could do that to anyone. Unless…” He trailed off, pondering over the laid-out possibility and silently concluded that maybe, just maybe, with enough force and technique, it could be possible. He suddenly shut his mouth tightly; he ought to control his words especially with others, it’s going to get him killed sooner or later.

Mark sighed before leaning onto the table. “You are aware of the problem here Jun and you know exactly well that you deserved that forming bump on your head.” He stated, dead serious. Dejun did not dare to reply to that, choosing to keep his silence and act like he didn’t hear anything at all. Seeing his friend’s stubbornness, Mark settled on sighing and leaving one last word before ushering Yukhei out. “Kunhang is a good writer. Stop putting so much pressure on him because I swear that the nosebleeds he kept on hiding is worsening.”

Dejun, once alone, buried his face into his palms, exasperated. His hostility is, although intentional at first, currently unintentional. He’s not blind nor an idiot, so setting aside all his biases against non-humanities students, his Creative Writing partner is actually a good writer and has been constantly improving what with the hellish workshops he was forced upon with.

He just can’t help his attitude towards the other. At first, his anger is rooted with how nonchalant the Business major was; passing half-assed inputs for the workshop and suggesting idiocies which can make even Shakespeare burst into tears. However, against all his biases, Kunhang seemed to suddenly just changed from that airhead into the, maybe not prolific yet still competent, writer that he currently is. And that infuriated him even more.

He had settled himself to hate the Business major until the depths of the earth, for as long as he lives, but then the asshole just took a 180 degree turn in his performance and attitude. From a thick-headed half-asser, he was suddenly greeted with a brilliant hard worker who never failed to deliver and impress. It became harder to hate him, thus, the intensified aggravation and exponential growth of his distaste towards the other.

It doesn’t help his case how his whole face would flush red whenever the Business major would pass his output with a beam on his face. It’s an absolute injustice to him how someone is looking like _that_, studying Business, and still manage to write very well.

He always believed that he’s a sturdy pillar, turns out somebody could really make his knees tremble in place.

“I should go easier on him.” Dejun muttered under his breath, deciding that he should set aside his biases for the good of all. Anyway, the semester is nearly ending, after this, he won’t have to deal with the other after this.

It had been a hellish day and Kunhang doesn’t feel good, at all. He’s been feeling terrible lately and although his grades aren’t really suffering, he’s aware that his body is and sitting in the silent library, after a full day of running around, trying to pass his outputs, made him realize just how feverish he felt. He zipped up his hoodie as he crouched even further and continued on writing his piece for today’s workshop.

He hasn’t felt it earlier, probably because of the adrenaline and cortisol, but he feels light-headed and weightless, it doesn’t help that his body is aching yet at the same time numb. He let out a quiet sigh and repeated a pathetic mantra that it’s just two more hours before the end of the workshop. He bit his lips and persevered on writing despite his blurring sight.

He didn’t even lasted ten minutes writing when blood started dripping on his paper, starling him. “Shit, I’m already halfway in this page and now I have to re-write it.” He sighed as he discovered that the red substance stained the paper even after wiping it a few times. He had his head tilted back but it seemed as if it will take quite a while before the dripping stops completely.

Due to his preoccupation, he was startled when the seat beside him was taken. He stiffened with his face up in the air. The first thing that came into his head is how he might have fucked up and now, Dejun will probably scold him, _again_. He was about to apologize profusely when his head began spinning and the last thing that he heard was Dejun’s voice, laced with concern.

Dejun, on the other hand, was panicking as he supported Kunhang’s unconscious body while wiping the excess blood from the latter’s face. It doesn’t help how high Kunhang’s temperature is, spiking up the concern inside Dejun. After swiftly deciding, he stood up and carried the unconscious male on his back before calling over to his friends who were unaware of what went down.

“Yukhei! Mark! Take charge. Kunhang’s lost consciousness. Please call his roommate as well.” He said hurriedly before running towards the university infirmary.

As he trudged through the crowded hallways, he cursed under his breath seeing how much distance he has to cover before arriving at the infirmary. Kunhang is boiling and Dejun felt his heart drop after the latter let out a pained whimper. He quickened his steps and ignored the countless students he managed to bump into in his haste.

A few floors down and a number of students bumped later, Dejun slid through the infirmary haphazardly before gently laying down Kunhang on one of the beds. The nurse shot up from her station and called the doctor on-duty from the other room. Dejun was ushered by the nurse as the doctor went beside the bed to check on the unconscious male. Dejun was panting heavily.

“Come here young man, come and catch your breath as the doctor and I examine him.” The nurse made him sit in front of her table. The nurse then went back inside to help the doctor. Dejun bit his lips and fiddled with his fingers as he kept his gaze fixed on the closed curtain of the treatment area.

He wondered just how much fatigued Kunhang is for him to suddenly to drop unconscious like that. He approached the other earlier after seeing how pale Kunhang was and the frustration in his face as he tried to control his nosebleed, he never expected that the moment he sat down, he would have to catch the falling body of the sick male.

He approached Kunhang earlier in order to inform him that he’s lessening the Business major’s load by taking off his mandatory workshop attendance and would only require the other to pass his part of their final output. He figured that whatever happens, he could just take time off to edit and make everything exquisite, like he’s used to. However, that’s too much to ask for his misfortune emitting self.

After a few excruciating moments, the doctor came out to meet him whilst the nurse returned behind her desk and picked up the phone to make some calls; Dejun figured that something serious must have happened. “It’s serious, isn’t it?” He beat the doctor first.

The man offered a smile before shaking his head for a bit. “We would have to transfer him first to the university hospital to determine his actual condition. His fever is thirty-nine point five degrees Celsius. If I may ask, how long has he been like this?” Dejun looked down and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know, I just found out he’s burning when he suddenly collapsed onto me.” He stated.

At that time, the door was slid quite harshly as a panting newcomer intruded. “Kunhang… Where’s Wong Kunhang?!” It was Yangyang and it took everything in Dejun’s willpower to forbid himself from suddenly dropping on his knees in apology. It would be unsightly and his pride, albeit the cause of his impending demise, would never let him. So like the rational being that he is, he wiped the worry off his face and turned around, instilling shock and anger to Yangyang who almost jumped him had it not been for his companion who pulled him back before offering an apologetic bow towards Dejun. Dejun knows it in his heart that if anyone who deserves to give out an apology, it should be him, he remained unfazed though.

“Thank you, doctor, the patient’s close friends are here, I would be taking my leave.” He bowed at the doctor before walking past Yangyang. He’s extremely worried but he knows that Kunhang will be fine.

He just needs to finish that darn paper which led to this fiasco.

“Thank goodness you are finally awake! How are you feeling?” Blinking thrice, Kunhang pushed away Yangyang’s face which ungracefully intruded him the moment he opened his eyes. The pounding in his head is making him dizzy and his friend’s voice is not helping him one bit. “Tone it down a little, will you?” He grumbled as he sat up and was delightfully assisted by Jaemin, whose presence he was not aware of earlier.

“How are you feeling?” Jaemin repeated, aware that Yangyang might get socked if he opened his hyperactive mouth once more. “Terrible but better than earlier, where am I anyway and what happened?” His brows are furrowed in confusion. The last time he remembered, he was in the library and Dejun sat beside him. Now, he’s probably in the infirmary, and… wait. “Dejun? Where’s Dejun?” He looked around.

Yangyang rolled his eyes indiscreetly. “Of course, being the little masochist that you are, you definitely seek for the cause of your admittance in the hospital. Really loyal to your character.” He sassed at his friend before sitting on the hospital bed. Jaemin opted the chair beside the bed.

Kunhang was confused as to why would he need to be admitted to the hospital. Tapping his head for a few times, his recollection of the previous happenings came back gradually. He realized just how sick he was that he literally dropped unconscious. He also realized how embarrassing he was to drop half dead on Dejun. He felt his blood run cold thinking that he actually never managed to finish nor pass his piece for the workshop. He shot up.

“Hey, hey, please go easy on yourself; you’ll only cause yourself to be dizzy.” Jaemin coaxed him back to the bed. “But my piece, I haven’t passed it-” Kunhang started rambling when Yangyang shot him a pointed look. He shut his mouth as soon as he opened it. Jaemin, in turn, gave his own pointed look at Yangyang who merely ‘hmp-ed’ in response.

“Why is it that the first person you looked for was also the primary cause for you to be lying here? Do you know how much I got told off by auntie because ‘_you’re such a hardworking little shit_,’ if I may so kindly quote her, which I don’t deny?” Yangyang had his arms crossed in front of his chest, irritation and concern mixed weirdly on his face; Kunhang snorted at how constipated his friend looks. “This little shit-” Yangyang was ready to throw hands if not for Jaemin pulling him from the bed and pushing him on the couch. It was really a blessing that Kunhang’s parents are wealthy, thus, they were able to afford this private room and doesn’t have to tolerate the noise which the wards possess.

“What Yangyang meant,” Jaemin gave the younger a stink eye before returning his attention to the bedridden Kunhang. “is that we cannot really understand why you’re so hellbent on trying to please Xiao Dejun. No offense but he’s been nothing but an asshole towards you. Are you a masochist or something, perhaps?” He took over the place Yangyang had been previously sitting on, acting like the mother hen that he is despite being younger.

Kunhang smiled a little bit but held his tongue. He’s aware that he looks like an absolute fool right now but he can’t really take it in him to be a burden on his partner. “What happened? If I remembered correctly, you’re not the type to get so worked up for such inconsequential matters-” Jaemin was cut short by the piercing glare Kunhang gave him. “It’s not ‘_inconsequential_.’ It might be for me but if the Literature majors fuck the subject up, it might not be received well among them.” “And since when have you been so thoughtful of others especially ones that are especially hellbent on making you suffer?” Yangyang shot back just as harshly.

Kunhang leaned back as he thought back to that one fateful night in the library. “Nothing. Just…”

_Chuckling to himself, Kunhang chucked his phone in his pocket when he saw a lone light shining through the dark library. He thought it was weird considering how it was past 9 PM and although the university is pretty lax with students staying the night studying, it still was quite unusual to have somebody stay in the library this late. Only the clubrooms should be occupied at this hour- _

_Kunhang’s eyes widened upon the realization. “The library is the base quarters of the Book and Writing Clubs.” He muttered to himself before entering it discreetly. He has a hunch on who might be there in the dead of the night but he did not expect what he witnessed as he hid himself behind a shelf._

_Amidst the darkness shone a light but that light, instead of being warm and fuzzy, was too cold and melancholic. Sobs and sniffs were mixed peculiarly with the shuffling of papers and the friction of the pen against the paper. Kunhang felt his breath hitch after realizing who was the owner of such a pitiful sight._

_It was Dejun. He was carelessly wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands as he continued on writing and typing on his phone. Kunhang knows that he should leave for this is such a private and sensitive thing, he knows that Dejun wouldn’t appreciate somebody spying on him while his masks and facades are down and his soul is bare for the world to stomp on, but he just couldn’t walk away. So like the irrational being that he is, he stayed rooted on his spot, silently watching the frustrated and hunched figure on the table._

_“Why are you even crying Dejun? You brought this upon yourself. You were the one who took it upon yourself to edit every single fucking piece for the literary journal.” He heard the stressed Literature major grumbled under his breath with constant pause and sobs in between. The chastising did not stop there._

_“But I never thought that there are still people who would half-ass their work. For goodness’ sake, some of these are so terrible it’s better for me to create new ones out of scratch.” There was agony in his voice but he continued on scratching and writing. Wiping his face with the sleeves of his sweater, he sniffed once more. “There’s also that darn Johnny Suh. That bastard is the new bane of my existence. Why do I even pay a shit ton of money for college when professors don’t even bother teaching us?” _

_The pen in his hands suddenly broke with the extreme pressure he must have put on it and ink started dripping, staining his hands, and dangerously spreading across the papers. Dejun seemed stunned but jumped automatically to prevent the ink from ruining anything important. Kunhang itched to reveal himself and help the distraught male but prevented himself from doing so; nobody likes snitches. So he kept mum and felt his grip on the shelf turn tighter as tears continued on trekking down Dejun’s red face. _

_After saving the papers and his laptop from the sea of ink he inadvertently caused, he dropped on the ground mindlessly as he stared into space. “I also have that fiction with that uncaring Business major.” Kunhang flinched at the mention of his existence. “Why would he care anyway? This is merely an elective for him. A filler subject in order to escape the clutches of their ‘complex’ electives. Why did I even take this course? We’re deemed pretty much useless and I’m just exhausting myself for something that others deem worthless.” _

_Kunhang can’t bear to hear such depreciating words anymore so he carefully backed away from the scene with a renewed vigor. He wants to prove Dejun wrong._

Deciding that telling his friends such sensitive information can be considered disrespectful for Dejun, who also wasn’t aware of his presence then, he beamed at them. “It doesn’t that he purposefully wants to make me suffer. He’s just extremely serious about his craft and cannot tolerate uncaring people like I were. I just made the mistake of brushing the subject off as unimportant in the beginning, thus, his bias. I promise that he can be quite adorable when he’s not snarling while breathing against my neck.” This rendered Jaemin and Yangyang speechless. The audacity.

Yangyang was ready to lunge forwards at his friend when the door opened and Yukhei and Mark came in, all bright smiles and basket of fruits. Kunhang smiled at them. “Thank you for visiting. Where’s Dejun?” The two newcomers exchanged looks and smiles at how straightforward that was and the question was thrown without any precursor.

Jaemin greeted the two and pulled Yangyang from the center of the sofa to make room for the visitors. Yukhei sat down but Mark opted to stand instead and offered a smile at the patient. “First things first, how are you feeling?” He dodged the question with a question.

Kunhang is aware of this but amused the other nonetheless. “Better. Although obviously, I’ve been better, but at least I’m not light-headed anymore and the pounding in my head isn’t as worst as it had been. What happened anyway? These two wouldn’t answer my questions properly so until now, I’m still lost as to how I managed to end up here.”

Thankfully, Mark did not hesitate to answer his queries. “You suddenly lost consciousness the moment Dejun sat beside you. He carried you to the infirmary only to learn that you have to be admitted because the doctor wanted to run some tests for you also had recurring nosebleeds. We called Yangyang then and you know, the rest happened.”

Kunhang couldn’t believe what he just heard. Dejun carried him to the infirmary? But the library is six floors up the infirmary! And their darn university still refuses to build elevators. Warmth filled his chest and he know that it must have spread on his cheeks too seeing the dissatisfaction on Yangyang’s face and the smirk on Jaemin’s. “Where’s he?” He asked instead. He wanted to know why Dejun isn’t there when he woke up but knowing the Literature major, worrying about others is uncharacteristically him, so despite the slight twinge in his chest, he shrugged it off.

It was Yukhei who answered. “If my calculations are correct, he’d be in Suh’s office, passing your final requirements. Don’t worry, Dejun’s good at this, I can promise you that the lowest grade you can get with an output done by him is an A-.” Yukhei grinned at him. Kunhang frowned. “I haven’t finished my part yet, though.”

Yukhei waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry, Dejun took your idea and just edited it; he’s not that heartless. He actually finished it by yesterday and was about to tell you but you just suddenly… _drop dead_. Literally.” Mark nodded. “Please don’t be offended by his choices. He’s just worried for your well-being so he took it upon himself in order to lessen your workload and you wouldn’t have to come to the workshop anymore; we all know how much it’s taking a toll on you plus, you don’t even need it.” Mark supplied.

Kunhang is still disappointed. In the end, he’s still incompetent and still burdened Dejun. In the end, he did not manage to prove Dejun wrong.

Yukhei and Mark sensed his musings and after getting an eye signal from Jaemin, decided that letting the two meet and clearing misunderstandings and biases against each other would be the best. Dejun would never come out to meet Kunhang though. “You can catch him on the library. There’s no one there right now after he cancelled the meetings this week after realizing that he cannot focus on running the club since you got hospitalized.”

Yangyang opened his mouth to protest but Jaemin covered it with his hands while holding him down with the other. Kunhang beamed and hurriedly wore slippers, grabbed Yangyang’s car keys before sprinting to the parking lot. He’s aware that he’s being unsightly, what with the hospital pajama and slippers but he’s too busy avoiding hospital personnel at the moment to actually care.

It did not take him long to spot the eyesore Yangyang had for a car – it was neon green for heaven’s sake – and him driving out of the parking lot. He knows that his condition might take a turn for the worst because of this but he’ll worry about that later.

A few traffic lights later, he was abandoning Yangyang’s eyesore of a car on the university parking lot as he sprinted towards the library. He’s still cursing the darn administration for being so stingy to even install elevators. As he slowly approached the entrance of the library, he suddenly became hyperaware of his current disposition.

His hair is in a disarray due to all the running, he’s wearing thin hospital pajamas, and he’s wearing slippers. Way to make a good impression, no wonder Dejun had always been prejudiced against him. He was about to turn away when the doors opened and Dejun walked out of them. It looks like there’s no turning back now. Kunhang gulped.

Dejun was obviously shocked seeing him here. The confusion and concern were quickly replaced with his constant indifference though but Kunhang has seen it and he beamed brightly at the Literature major. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” Dejun’s tone was slightly hostile but Kunhang did not let it deter him as it usually would. “Why did you quickly left then?”

Dejun was taken aback by his question. Kunhang shouldn’t have known about his involvement and Yangyang couldn’t have told him since he hates his guts that much. His eyes widened at the realization. “Mark and Yukhei.” He snarled under his breath, his grip on his notes getting tighter. Kunhang noticed it and quickly fired. “You finished our final output, didn’t you?”

Dejun looked at Kunhang passively. He doesn’t like others knowing about his sacrifices for he doesn’t wish to be taken advantage of, thus, his indifferent façade. “I did. So?” “Mark told me you used my piece as one of the backbones; I wrote a romance.” Dejun doesn’t like where it is going. “So? It’s a measly romance, I can write such simplicity even while asleep.” He put on a pretense. He knows that despite his status, he’s not a genius nor a prodigy, he couldn’t make a single shit unless he put in his blood, sweat, and tears. However, Kunhang doesn’t have to know that.

But Kunhang is aware of that. “No you couldn’t. You go through so much just to create a single piece, you cry so much just to keep the two clubs afloat, and you bleed so much just to pass every single subject.” Dejun doesn’t like the tone of the Business major and made a step to walk through the sore of his eyes but Kunhang blocked him from doing so.

“You act strong when a single wind could knock you at the slightest kiss, you turn hostile at the slightest sign of vulnerability, and you are slowly crumbling because you cannot believe that the idiotic Business major you have as a partner is actually putting in effort. Against your beliefs, I actually put in effort and you cannot take that, can you?” Kunhang was frowning then and Dejun frowned back. What the hell is this boy talking about?

“You’re so used to being failed that you began to anticipate it, don’t you?” Kunhang stepped closer, bending down so he could face Dejun closely. Dejun did not lean back. “Sweetie, what the hell are you spouting? Are we in a play or something?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to catch Kunhang off-guard but to no avail, the Business major has done that already and changing the tides is nearly impossible at this point.

“I saw you.” Dejun tilted his head in confusion. “One night, in the library, it was nine p.m. then, you were the only one. The only thing illuminating the room was your study lamp and you were crying.” Dejun felt his body froze as memories of his break down resurfaced. “You’re not the prodigy that you liked to pretend you are, and you’re not uncaring as you pretend to be.” Dejun is scared at how Kunhang’s expression shifted from a hyperactive idiot into this serious and charismatic patient. Handsome, sure, but still a patient.

Dejun is confused as to where Kunhang is coming from and where does he plan on going with this little stunt. He raised his hand to feel up Kunhang’s forehead. Letting out a small ‘tsk,’ he glared at the Business major, though without spite. “Just as I thought. You’re still feverish. Come on, we’re going back to the hospital so that you’ll stop this nonsensical stunt of yours.” He pulled Kunhang’s wrist before going ahead to drag him away.

“You’re so stupid it’s beyond me. I shouldn’t have strained myself yesterday if you were asking for death anyway.” Dejun muttered while they trek down the building. Kunhang felt a small smile creeping up his face. “You still ran these steps anyways.” “Yeah, with a whole grown ass man on my back. Do me a favor and get some rest, will you? You don’t have to attend writing workshops anyway, so I’m literally clearing up your schedule. Mark and Yukhei should have told you that much since they love ratting out on me so much.” He grumbled as they turned the corner.

Before reaching the next staircase, Kunhang pulled Dejun’s wrist which was the one holding his other one. “You haven’t answered my question yet, I wrote a romance.” Dejun turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “What is it with you and romances anyway? You wrote a romance, I edited and finished it, so what?” He cannot understand why Kunhang is so hellbent on understanding whatever it is he wishes to understand.

Kunhang shook his head. “You’re a man of tragedy, politics, and nonfiction; you’ll never write romance even if you’re held at gunpoint.” Dejun felt his cheeks heating up at that but he never let his expression falter even the slightest. He refused to answer that. “You’ll write tragedy for projects and satire as a hobby, but never romance.” Kunhang leaned in again. It made Dejun’s blood boil how the Business major had learned to catch him off-guard. It’s probably Mark and Yukhei.

“Just drop it Wong. I finished it, I passed it, I’m letting you go so you won’t have to bleed exhausted, and you should just drop it. It’s not entirely romantic anyway, I left the ending hanging. For literary purposes.” He added the last bit hesitantly. It was Kunhang’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

Dejun let out a sigh. “Just return to the hospital first. Once you recovered, we’ll go to Professor Suh to receive our marked paper. Then, you’ll understand why I did not conclude it nor did I stuck to my usual melancholic pieces.” When Kunhang made no move to return to the hospital, Dejun took the hands that were closed in on his wrist. “Please.”

In the far distance, Yangyang’s battle cries can be heard. “Or Yangyang will have my head.” Kunhang relented.

Johnny eyed the two in front of him. Taking his faux glasses off, he put down the paper revealing an A+. Dejun, a student he knows well from his own department, is unfazed and Johnny is not surprised; that boy is the brain behind the current glory of the Book and Writing Club, a mere Creative Writing subject is nothing but a walk in the park for him. His partner though, looked ecstatic with the marks they’ve gotten. Johnny eyed them strangely.

“You should have expected such a mark, you have the president of the Writing Club as your partner.” He directed the statement at the Business major. He’s suspicious that Dejun did everything on his own. Kunhang looked affronted and was ready to bite back when Dejun opened his mouth. “Please sir, you’re thinking too highly of me.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. It is an unusual sight.

Dejun is known to be pretentious and haughty, so receiving such a humble comment from him is enough to raise eyebrows. Johnny did not pry and asked about the piece instead. “So your piece, despite the romantic undertones, the path you took is quite interesting.” He opened the topic and Dejun tipped his head in a silent thanks. “It’s in the poetics sir, but I refused to conclude our story haphazardly.”

Kunhang looked at Dejun in confusion. He accompanied the Literature major because Dejun was just too stubborn that he refuses until the end to just send the word document over the cloud to him. Johnny seemed to have his interest piqued as he turned his chair towards the two. Dejun continued. “It would such a shame to let prejudice ruin a potentially good social relations, don’t you think so, Professor?” He offered a slight smile at their professor. Johnny is extremely amused at how Kunhang’s eyes widened whilst Dejun said all of those cringe-worthy statements with the most passive expression ever.

Dejun took the marked output before bowing slightly at their professor. “Thanks Sir Suh.” He pulled Kunhang with him by the wrist. And Johnny, being the asshole that he is called out towards the Literature major. “It’s quite nice to be down here, isn’t it, my dear prodigy?”

Dejun loosened his grip on Kunhang as he said over his shoulder. “Calm down sir, it’s just romance.” He smiled before pulling the Business major again, out of the faculty. Johnny turned back onto his table as he put on his faux glasses again.

“Another potential couple borne out of desperation, well done Suh.” He smirked as he typed two one hundreds on the school portal for his students.


End file.
